Turn the Lights Out Pt II
by chocgirl
Summary: AU/ Neighbours from hell to lovers to blissful married coupledom. Alex and Piper, fluff and a bit o' drama.
1. What's two plus one?

**1.** What's two plus one?

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 _AN/ Hi, all, remember me? One gif triggered this entire piece. It's amazing what can spark off my muse again. I've had multiple requests / PMs for a sequel etc and in the words of a sage old saying: never say never._

 _So this is sort of a sequel and is set a few years forward from Turn the Lights Out._

(Perspective is Piper's)

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"You sure you turned the stove off?"

"Hmmm?"

"The stove," I repeat, "Did you turn it off?"

Fiery images of burning multi-million dollar houses with too many expensive paintings going up in flames rattle through my mind's eye.

"Pipes, the thing turns itself off. And even so we're not all going to burn into a crisp because it's goddamn electric."

"Oh yeah," I murmur relieved, "I remember that was the main selling point from the sales guy. How could I forget?"

Alex's voice drifts into my ear, "Piper, I'm kinda in the middle of something."

"I mean it was six hundred dollars-" I don't complete the sentence but instead was abruptly cut off by a pair of hands squeezing a pair of things that had but a gazillion nerve endings all working in perfect orgasmic unison to make me yell out a series of expletives that would make even a lumberjack blush into oblivion.

"Speaking of hot things…" Alex breathes into my ear, like she hadn't just done all of _that._

I'm still in a state of recovery so end up just profusely nodding - the universal gesture for please continue as you were.

Three minutes ago I was certain I had left the raging hormones phase back in my teen years but as I look at Alex and her damningly proud manner do I realise it had never truly left me. Let's just say; Greek goddess Aphrodite had nothing on Alex.

"I detest you so much right now…at least warn me in advance."

"But doesn't that spoil all the fun, hun?"

As you can see my hate-love dilemma was still as strong as ever. Hate because of the smug and love because of the… smug.

"Hun? Seriously?" I begin, but yet again was swiftly silenced just as overly competent hands traced down my abdomen, conquering every single inch of hot wanting skin.

We're in bed, semi-dressed or semi-naked, depending on which way you looked at it, and both trying our utmost to stay at least semi-silent through Alex's suggestion of a morning quickie before we both headed off to work. That's a lot of semis - but my loud groans and moans and other sexual sound effects were most definitely not.

"Jesus," Alex remarked all exasperation, "Any louder and I'm gonna have to get my eardrums replaced."

I roll my eyes, fixing them on Alex who was straddling me at the hips, her mouth somewhere buried in my neck. I wait for the last shockwaves of my second or possibly third orgasm to subside before forcefully whispering, "Well considering you're fucking hand is well up into my hoohah…what do you expect?"

Alex looks totally unfazed, and instead she eased away for a moment, and a second later her mouth was on my breast, "I expect you to come…again."

Coherency and any high ground I had was instantly lost in an avalanche of white heat. My thighs clench together as a wave of honest to goodness desire races through me - my mouth desperately wanting to reconnect with the heathen who was currently teaching me a lesson in exactly why I should keep my goddamn mouth shut.

As if I hadn't just been schooled she adds all matter-of-fact, "Also try and enjoy yourself quietly…otherwise we're never going to get to my turn and so help me god if we get interrupted again."

It's been months if not a year since we've matched or even come close to my then regular seven orgasms per session and I was determined so truly determined…that today was going to be the day. Slim odds in the face of many factors that sought to curb that goal but despite that I remained staunchly hopeful.

I shake my head and without warning roll over and force Alex to become bottom this time. Let's see how good she is at the keeping quiet front. It's about time I tested out this practice what I preach thing she had going on.

Craning my head forwards, I nuzzle my face into Alex's nape and move my mouth just enough to graze over her lips before mercilessly moving back. Alex was obviously liking this rapid turn of events…well judging from the barely concealed groan rumbling somewhere in her throat.

"Shhhhh." I place my finger against my lips, and audaciously whisper, "You've got to be quiet, remember?"

"I'm so much better at it than you." Alex gasped, her face blossoming into the complete opposite.

What did I say?

Such a fucking liar.

"Well then, prove it."

I don't care for an answer because I'm already purposefully grinding my hips against her with just the right amount of traction and flair. I wrap my hands around her face and bring us together for an open-mouthed kiss.

But I wasn't done yet, if anything we were still firmly at the starting line and luckily for the both of us the finish line was nowhere near in sight.

"Hey babe," I began with a languid murmur, that revealed nothing of what my hands were presently up to. Or rather in to. "I didn't hear your excuse."

My teeth pulled at her lips as my hand drove into the juncture of her thighs, pressing firmly and ruthlessly. I was pushing her beyond her limits in every sense of the word.

A fresh curse tore straight through those wonderfully supple lips – the moans following so husky and rough – it had me captured for a moment. I could feel my own rush of arousal constricting my throat, my heartbeat thundering in my ears.

Alex took my second of momentary weakness as a portal for her comeuppance, her hands sliding up against the curve of my ass and pushing me down against her, our chests flush with one another. Her eyes dark and wanting - bore into me and I had no choice but to succumb to the urge that left cinders in its wake.

"You can't win..." Alex declares, running her tongue lightly over my neck, "…from me that easily, Chapman."

"I didn't know we were in a competition." I respond with an ingenuous flick of the brows. How I managed to respond with such calm was beyond me, considering my mental faculties had flown away, together with the meagre restraint I tried to clutch onto.

Alex smiled a smile that was so inherently hers, "A competition implies competition. So far there's been none of that."

Her lips briefly touched mine, so that her breath was my breath, and oh fuck, how can someone be so maddeningly conceited and sexy all at once?

I pulled her into me, and uttered, "You're the worst."

Even though I was on top, quite literally — metaphorically speaking I was far from it, I would have to concede she was forever the sex conqueror and had beaten me once again.

"Am I supposed to apologise?" Alex punctuated that by deliberately turning in such a way…let's say a certain pressure in a certain area sparked off a fury of fucks out of me. "Because I'm afraid that's...not...going to happen."

It was then – in the midst of my ecstasy that I sagely realise there were never losers in this game of ours. "You're a fucking disgrace, Alex." I barely vocalise.

She halts her moves for a second and greets me with one of her signature self-satisfied grins. She really did think she was the best thing since sliced bread which was true but still, "What are you waiting for?" I scowl, "Your fucking theme tune?"

"And I love you too, babes."

I mean, really?

What do you even say to that?

"Mom! Mom! Mommy!"

A small high pitched voice suddenly materialises from the doorway, bringing an abrupt end to our cuddling session. I probably had about a split second warning before our little tearaway launched himself onto the bed.

"Shit!" Alex exclaims in horror, "Didn't you lock the fu- bedroom door!"

"I thought you did!" I let out a shocked yelp and manage to somehow in the same breath yank the corners of the bed sheet and hastily wrap it around the offending areas of my birthday suit. Unfortunately, in the midst of my own self-preservation I somehow forgot about Alex who was now thrown off balance by my panicked jutting of limbs; and so rather unceremoniously hurtled off the bed.

It's actually a blessing in disguise because a five year old bundle of nervous energy had now landed on the bed.

He was busy reporting on the monster under his bed, his little face screwed into that typical scared toddler expression. Unbeknownst to him, both his parents currently had their faces screwed into the typical we've nearly been caught in the act grown up expressions.

So this is probably the world's worst timed interlude for an introduction - but meet Toby Vause-Chapman - our five year old handsome little devil who Alex and I had adopted when he was literally as big as a jar of peanut butter. Having children or adopting no less hadn't even been something we had actively discussed but it was over the years where we'd both come to the natural conclusion two persons must become three.

'Hey honey!" I burst out with an over the top jovial tone, quickly double checking once again that I was adequately covered, "What are you doing up so early in the morning?"

He stops speaking at his usual mile a minute, his head cocked to the side and a curiously suspicious expression painted across his little cherubic face. Any other time my heart would have melted at the sight of him adorably clutching onto Mr Bear, the little teddy that had survived worse trauma than an actual bear would ever have to face. (Five year olds live a very rough and tumble life).

But I had other pressing problems to deal with - namely making sure our child hadn't gotten a reenactment of the special love hug between adults he'd been taught in last week's sex ed class and so run the risk of becoming permanently scarred.

"Were you and mom fighting?"

"No! Of course not, Toby." I sheepishly glance back at Alex who miraculously managed to pull on a shirt and sweatpants.

"So why is mom on the floor?" He flicks his gaze between the two of us, and I almost squirm from embarrassment.

Kids, these days were too annoyingly inquisitive.

"Hey champ!" Alex climbs back onto the bed, her face flushed, and appearing more guilty than a thief caught thieving. She throws me a panicked side eye but all I can do is apologetically shrug. "So uh what are you doing up so early? School doesn't start for another few hours."

"Mom, I couldn't sleep." His face pulls into a sorry little expression as he runs up to Alex and hurriedly crawls into her lap before burying his head into her waist. His tiny voice, all muffled against her, "I think….I think the under the bed monster is back…and I don't want to go back to my room in case he's still there."

"Hey bud," Alex ruffles his hair, "Remember what we said about these monsters, hmmm?"

"That they don't exist." He answers reluctantly.

"That's right."

No sooner had Alex spoken when Toby suddenly jumps up, "But actually I think they do, mom. I heard them. I heard them. I prooomiise."

Alex catches my eyes behind his back, and I gesture to her to go with him to his room so that I could get dressed. She nods her head, and turns back to him, "Ok…what do you think? Shall we go have a look together?"

"Do we have to?" Toby answers, clasping his hand tightly around Alex's, his face still a picture of nerves.

She catches his hesitation and bends down to his level, "Hey bud, didn't Mommy and I both promise you we're never ever going to let anything bad happen to you?"

"Yeah." He answers, worrying the sleeve of Alex's shirt.

She rubbed his back, "So come one, let's have a look and seeing as you're already up…we'll go make breakfast after, deal?"

"Uh huh."

They head out of the room but just before closing the door Alex turns around and mouths _this is totally unfinished_ which makes me laugh out loud, and just to annoy slash tantalise slash forewarn her, I let my duvet deliberately slip, and wink, "There _is_ always tomorrow."

"Let me fight some monsters first…but I can't promise I'll be without any injuries when I return."

"I'll make sure I'll tend to your battle wounds. Don't worry, Dr V-C, we'll be at your service." I add, "Now go sort those monsters, babe."

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It's a few weeks later and I'm working my usual Tuesday evening shift at Haven. The take had been quiet, almost too quiet. Turns out it's one of those once in a blue moon evenings where the gang and I outnumbered the patrons almost two to one. Over the years we've all learned that any lapse in chaos was to be savoured like it was our last.

I cast a quick cursory eye over the shop floor - satisfied all of the tables had been served their meals. A perfunctory glance at the electronic order board bolted above the serving hatch told me all was well and in order.

"Hey!" Taystee bounces up to me munching on some of the leftover batch of fries, "How's my cute lil godson?"

I stop writing in the equipment log, and inwardly smile, "He's good."

Yeah about that. Technically Taystee had somehow managed to appoint herself as godmother. I mean I didn't mind at all but somewhere along the line Taystee had gone from god mom who sent Toby the gifts at the usual holiday occasions to deciding on what he should wear in this teens and what colleges to apply for.

"You got any pictures?"

"Trust me Taystee," I answer with a laugh, "I promise he hasn't changed that much since the photos I showed you last month."

"Man, quit stalling, you know I never get enough of seeing that cute-ass kid of yours."

I'm already happily holding my phone out and show her the pictures I took when the three of us had gone to Acadia National Park a couple of weekends ago.

"Oh my god…look at that chubby little face." She squeals out loud, "R'member when he used to look like a lil potato?

I can't help but snort, "How can I forget."

Truth be told, Toby in his younger years - circa two years old did bear an unfortunate resemblance to a potato according to Nicky anyway. I still fondly think back to Taystee's rather blunt exclamation, _"P, he looks just like a yam."_

I'd been too dumbfounded to even question such a ludicrous comparison and even went so far as to worry what mutant farmer's market did she go to where they sold baby shaped yams?

Her nudge sends me out of wistful memories, "How has he grown so quickly? I mean what the hell are you feeding this kid, that green shit that Popeye cartoon used to constantly down?"

"You mean spinach?"

Taystee's eyes open wide, "You're kidding me right? Is _that_ what that stuff was?"

"Fuck Taystee, I'm drowning in irony here." Nicky interjects, as she plumped her behind on the counter beside me, "You work in an eatery what hope does uncultured America have?" She looks at me, "I'm telling you again. You've made a big mistake not making me god-mom or at least appoint me as the cool aunt. That kid is missing out on so much of the Nichols wisdom."

I suspect Nicky's version of cool aunt and mine were far from aligned. I'm conjuring up images of Toby being taught how to roll weed joints and be delivered sessions in how to perfectly chug a can of beer.

"I'll think about it."

It's an answer disguised as a big fat no.

"Your loss, Chaps. Your loss." She spots my peeved off face, "Sorry my bad, it's _Vause-Chapman._ Y'know it's too much of a mouthful. What shall I shorten it to though? Is Chappy-V any good? How about V-Chaps? Actually scratch that…now it sounds like I'm trying to sell off-brand chapsticks to some dodgy guy in Queens."

My eyes roll around off their own accord, "How about _boss._ Is that short enough?" I swipe some of Taystee's fries, "Nicky, ever thought of having kids?"

"Me? Jesus Fucking Christ…That's a big no, nada on all fronts. I mean have you seen me? Do I look like someone who wants to deal with dirty diapers and subject myself to accidental projectile vomit shots into my eyeballs?"

"Do you have to make it sound like I'm raising a feral monkey?"

"Same thing isn't it?" She shrugs her shoulders, "One's endangered and the other _is_ a danger."

"Sounds like you're describing yourself, Nichols!" Poussey chimes in from the galley.

Nicky pulls the bird at her, "Keep your mouth shut, Washington."

"Now who looks like they're throwing their toys outta the pram."

Poussey ducks, barely avoiding a flannel fashioned into a missile rapidly heading her way.

"I don't mind a mini Taystee but I gotta find myself a guy first." Taystee adds wishfully.

Nicky grabs a nearby can of coke and pops it open, before pointing at me, "Going back to your question, the real reason is mama Nichols is a cunt and dada Nichols a useless sack of bones. I mean my fucking shadow has more purpose than those assholes." She holds her drink aloft, "So in the interest of humanity I'd rather not widen that toxic gene pool."

"Woah, that sucks Nicky."

"That's fucked up, Nicks."

Although she's acting all blasé and unbothered - there was still a flash of anguish that I didn't miss, even in the relatively dim surroundings of the kitchen.

The three of us stand there, shrouded in an awkward silence as Nicky's words still echoed around us, the atmosphere taking a sudden nosedive into grim seriousness.

"Relax guys," She smirks, back to her usual sprightly ways - making me wonder whether I had imagined it all. "The real reason is Mrs V wouldn't thank me if I caused any sort of harm to her which includes ejecting melon head babies out of my uterus." Nicky points at her crotch to my utter dismay, "She's a high maintenance girl that one."

Taystee and I engage in a collective sigh of _seriously?_

I sigh again, just in case the first one hadn't been clear enough, "Jesus Christ, Nicky. You're giving us whiplash here."

Taystee furrows her brows together, "This girl seriously needs to head to church."

Nicky jumps off the counter and shrugs her shoulders, "Hey, you guys asked and you got."

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It's been maybe a year since we moved out of Alex's apartment and into a normal grounded house with you guessed it - a white picket fence. I mean it wasn't quite the quaint cottage overlooking the Atlantic vision I had of our future but it had certainly more than delivered on my dream of living a gloriously ye olde lesbian existence.

The house had enough space to accommodate a small sovereign country never mind the three of us. But its long winding corridors and obnoxious number of rooms made for the best games of hide and seek.

All in all we had become the epitome of New York nouveau riche. The two vintage bikes Alex kept in the garage together with our strictly gay dress sense still reminded the neighbours we didn't quite conform to _all_ of boring suburbia.

I was still manager at Haven, still the butt of Nicky's toilet humour and still terrified of our reigning gulag master, Red.

The front door slams shut and it's not a second later when Alex materialises beside me - carrying a paper bag and a smile that come rain or shine always sparked off the old butterflies inside me.

"Hey! How was work?"

"Riveting." We exchanged a quick kiss before Alex declares, "It's Friday and you know what that means?"

I peek into the bag and spot a bottle of wine and various assorted cheeses. "My wildest dreams have come true." I let out a happy sigh, wind my arms around her waist and respond all coy, "Well aren't you quite the cheese connoisseur?"

She puts her hands over mine, "Come and brie mine."

"Did you just?"

"Make a cheesy cheese joke?" She winks at me, looking the least bit remorseful by way of her lopsided grin. "And I'm not even ashamed of it."

"You have shame?" I say with mock surprise. "Because that's certainly news to me."

Alex rolls her eyes, a smirk panning across her face, "How about I un-shame you as well."

I carry on cleaning the dishes, "That doesn't remotely make any sense."

"So why don't you let me demonstrate?"

Before I could decide on an answer, she brazenly slid her hand beneath my jeans but it comes to a sudden stop, her mouth suspended mid-laugh, "Hang on a second…are you wearing _lace?_ "

I pulled her hand back out again and pushed her back, "What is this? Your new _honey I'm home_ greeting?"

Alex ignores my half-assed attempt at exasperation and pressed herself behind me, " I've waited all damn day to put my hands all over you." She nuzzles her face into the crook of my shoulder, and has the cheek to start unbuttoning her shirt, "So what's the special occasion?"

"Were you keeping count or something?"

 **"** Questions needs answers, not more questions, babe." Alex kissed the back of my neck, full well knowing that was _my spot, "_ And as a matter of fact I _was_ keeping count - eight hours and ten minutes to be exact."

I wriggle free, and shook my head, "I'm trying to do the dishes her and you're so not helping."

"Can I sense some kind of role playing coming on here?"

"God, Al. Are you like some weird fetish fiend now?"

"If sexing up your hot wife is a fetish then I'm all in." Her hands continue to roam over my body and I'm having to fight off the urge to reciprocate.

Thankfully (unfortunately?) sense returns to me and whizz around, "C'mere and stand still." I grab her by the shirt and proceed to button it back up again, "Right this minute there are three, yes three five year old's asleep in Toby's room and I'm sure you remember what happened in the not so distant past."

Alex looks down, watching me finish with the top button, "I gotta say this is a very odd experience for me."

I straighten her collar, and look back up," How so?"

"Well I've never had a woman dress me back up again." She catches my eyes, a smile tugging at her lips, "Normally it's the other way round."

I shake my head, and ask with an amused snort, "Are you always so persistent?"

"Only when it matters."

Oh and also, I'm still mightily in love with this self-professed charmer.

Things most definitely have not changed on that front.

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 _AN/ Hope you guys enjoyed this! For those worried this will be unfinished; fear not. This fic has already been fully completed. Likely a 3/4 shot. Update soon :)_


	2. Chapter 2

**2.** Is there something I'm not seeing?

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 _AN/ Thanks for the amazing reception, you guys. Lovely to see a lot of familiar names commenting on the stories. Trust me, I read and appreciate each and every review on my stories so thank you. Anyhoos, more below :)_

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"How was Tobe?" Alex asks after we'd finished the dishes and settled down on the sofa. The wine already half empty together with the cheese board resting on the coffee table before us.

I take a slice of Gruyere, "As exciting as any five year old would be at their first friend sleepover. You should have seen how exciting he was when they came round - he looked like he was going to explode right out of his skin."

Alex gave a short laugh, "Oh what a relief. I was actually beginning to worry he wasn't making any friends at that kindergarten. You know how sensitive he is."

"Hmmm, you'll be surprised to hear _he_ was the one leading the little troupe, even held the only vote on what cake mix flavour was going to be used. It was all very undemocratic."

"I can only imagine how hard that must've been for you."

I swat her arm, "What? I don't want him turning into a little dictator."

"Jeez, relax Pipes, it's just five year olds being five year olds. If you ask me I'm glad he's able to stand his own ground. This is the same kid who was scared of his own shadow not so long ago, remember?"

I snuggle closer and let my mind drift to earlier times. It's almost alarming how fast time flies by - it felt like only yesterday when were going through the adoption process and finally bringing Toby into our lives. I still recall when Alex and I had spent almost an entire day deciding on what we should address ourselves as. Mommy or mom or mommy one and two. That had been the extent of our predicaments, which sounds so first world problem but like the bourgeois lesbian edition.

In the end we settled on mommy for me and mom for Alex.

You would have thought my mother would finally stop lamenting about my supposed meagre fertility prospects now that I adopted but no - if anything she was preaching more than ever. By the way she kept yelping about finite eggs and my rapidly ageing body - I should be stowed away in a retirement home in a year's time.

In all honesty, I have come to expect nothing from my parents - two attempts at reconciliation by inviting them for Thanksgiving and Christmas ( much to Alex's chagrin) had failed miserably.

The final straw had been during Christmas some years back when my father mildly suggested I was trying to make a political statement by being with Alex and had therefore in typical twisted Bill Chapman logic ruined the family reputation. As though the Chapmans were running an election and my gayness had truly fucked the opinion polls. It was narcissism at its finest.

I would have laughed hadn't I already cried in the bathroom. It's kind of pitiful but I sort of hoped the idea of Toby would have buffered at least some of my father's homophobic tendencies. I mean who didn't love kids right?

I quickly clear my mind and take a sip of my wine, " You know he was asking about you today."

"Really?" She's absently stroking my thigh, "That sounds ominous."

"No, no. He thinks you work in a toy factory."

That makes Alex laugh out loud, "What?"

"A giant toy factory that according to him is filled with chocolate and candy." I muse out loud, "I think he's mixing Toy Story with Charlie & the Chocolate Factory and somehow you're in it too."

"It must be my teddy bear like qualities that made him think that."

"Teddy bear like qualities?" I scoff, "Seriously what does that even mean?"

Alex takes another sip of wine and looks as though she's deep in thought before eventually answering, "I'm not sure actually." She tips her glass forward, half the contents dangerously sloshing near the edge, "I think I may be slightly drunk."

I stretch my legs out and watch Alex with curious amusement, her eyes a little out of focus and cheeks all flushed She had most definitely become a lightweight like me. It's about time she was brought down to my level of alcohol tolerance - which was just above zero. Seriously, all I had to do was step in and out of bar without a single drop of drink passing my lips and I'd be at risk of being charged with drink-driving.

Alex suddenly turns to me, face all conspiratorial, "In other news; our son has a crush on one of his fellow kindergartners."

"Woah, you're kidding right?"

"Oh yes. Tobes is a 21st century Danny Zuko from Grease." She holds her hand out for correction, "…But like the the miniature version."

I had to snort at that - trying to imagine Toby, our five year old trying to woo one of the other little five year olds. It was borderline ridiculous.

What do kids at that age even do to proclaim to their crush? Trade crayons and play in the same sandbox and shyly compliment each other on their Disney themed lunch boxes?

"How did you even find out?"

"Alex smiles, "He told me."

"He told you?" I parrot back, entirely unconvinced.

"I guess he just opened to me."

"What you mean is, you went all Dr Phil on him. No way did he spill that without being prompted."

She makes a face, "Fine, I was picking him up from school and I may or may not have seen him loitering beside Lindsay's daughter. Y'know the little girl with the ponytail? Anyway I saw him pass her one of his stuffed toys…the teddy bear we got him last Christmas."

"Bobo the bear?" I exclaim, "But he loves that one. That kid would die for Bobo."

"Well he clearly likes Lindsay's daughter more."

"If that's not cute I don't know what is." I poke Alex in the shoulder, "Well clearly _someone's_ been taking lessons from his mom - taking after you and chasing all the ladies."

She grins, her smile softening into one of those trademarked smiles that always made me weak at the knees. " _Well_ without that innate talent I wouldn't have got you."

"Is that so?"

"Totally."

Alex leans back and rummages behind the sofa and rather ceremoniously hands me a tiny stuffed bird. I recognise it to be a member of Toby's neglected stuffed toy population - his allegiance was known to change at the drop of a hat.

"I mean it's not _quite_ Bobo the bear levels of appreciation but it does adequately profess my raging high school crush on you."

I decide to play along and accept the bird, keenly stroking its frayed fur, "Are you asking me out?"

"Oh we've done the whole high school dating thing already. I was _actually_ asking you out to prom." She slowly closes the gap between us, advancing closer and closer, "Can you believe I've even gotten permission from my mom… y'know how late those things can get." She started nipping at my jaw, "You can't blame her though she's always been a worrier."

"Prom, huh?"

"Yeah...plus, that thing cost me like two weeks worth of pocket money so you sorta have to say… _yes."_

I lean forward and take Alex's glass of wine from her and carefully place it on the coffee table. My hands are softly running through her hair, my voice heavy and purposeful, "But I haven't even got a dress."

Alex bites her lips and now they're suddenly only inches away from my own. Paragraph 3.4: thou shalt not bite lips rustled around in my head because now I'm having to clear my mind of all garbage containing thoughts. But then meekly realise the trash man only collects on a Friday and today is Tuesday.

How inconvenient.

"No dress?" Alex asks softly, her index finger tracing my neck and just stopping short at the valley between my breasts, "I'm sure we can work something out."

My mouth is now all of a sudden Sahara desert levels dry. I didn't realise that a _prom_ fantasy was something I ever needed in my life until right this moment. If only to upgrade my current real life memory of my then high school boyfriend Aaron Nash awkwardly asking me to prom via a _phone call_.

I watch Alex watching me with her gleaming eyes, and rapidly come to a conclusion, "Okay, I think that's enough of the slow burn."

I mean it was two am…I think I can safely assume no child (or three) would be walking in on us.

I roll over, climb onto her lap and without further fanfare rip open Alex's fly and plunge my hand in her depths, feeling the wetness of her arousal against my fingers. It seems my gamble paid off.

"Thank god..I was…beginning…to run out lines." She choked out, in between wildly rough kisses, her voice failing with every successive stroke of her clit.

"Oh god, Alex." I press my mouth against her ear, rocking against my own hand, "You…feel…so…good."

My pulse is thrumming in my ears and I'm scared I'm going to come without any form of contact so with my other hand grab Alex's and force it beneath my own panties. I nearly buckle from the sudden pressure, and involuntarily rock against the fingers that were now sending me into a new realm of sensations. We're both breathing frantically, swallowing up each other's gasps and moans with messy open mouthed kisses.

I can feel the pressure mounting, a fraction away from succumbing to a supernova of an orgasm. It's at the same time where I can feel Alex's breathing turn ragged, my fingers sensing the rising swell of her own peak.

"Oh jesus…oh god, Piper…pleaaaasseeee."

It's an implore rolled into a plead rolled into an uncut, all out _beg_ that rapidly tipped me into a black hole of of my own never ending pleasure.

Collapsed against the sofa, Alex's hands still tangled around me, I add with breathless wonder, "This was definitely better than a phone call."

Alex glances at me, all red faced and rumpled hair, "What?"

"Nothing," I tilt my head and kiss her hard. "Nothing at all."

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It was my turn to pick Toby up from school today. I was already running late when I quickly dashed across the playground, dodging around the groups of waiting parents. The take of customers at Haven had been surprisingly large today and I'd just about finished on time. Hadn't it been for practically all of New York's traffic lights suspiciously turning red at my every approach I would have made it long before the school bells.

A soft wind ruffled through my hair, the first chill of fall beginning to creep its way in. Summer had already packed up its bag and had taken with it the little remaining sun and warmth.

Scanning around me, the school yard was already beginning to thin out, clusters of parents making their way toward the exits. I'm about to head off toward the school entrance, barely having taken a step - when I overhear my name, "It's quite clear who that kid likes more. I don't know who she's kidding with the whole super mom routine she thinks she's got going on."

Another voice, "You mean Chapman. The tall blonde one? Because I totally agree."

I have now come to a complete standstill, fiercely hoping they were talking about another tall blonde who happened to share my surname and was obviously a way worse mother than I was. I'm now right beside the oblivious group of conniving witches, and spot a ginger haired woman standing amongst them.

I near enough back away, silently cursing under my breath when I recognise Kirsty — so she was as bad of a driver as she was a backstabber. She also happened to be the wife of one of the board members at Excelsior and rumour had it (according to Alex anyway) her husband was having a sordid affair with his secretary.

Cliched much?

To be fair her stupid Barbour coats and extravagant rain boots she wore even in the blazing summers screamed cliched and entitled rich suburban mom. The cliched pair deserved each other.

I knew it was a spectacularly bad idea and nothing good would come out of it but I found myself moving back a little out of sight and perking my ears to listen out for more. Eavesdropping to conversations you were strictly not a part of was bad…even worse when featured subject was you. Astronomically bad when it was all negative.

Fuck that, these women had forfeited their right to privacy when they dragged me into their backstab party. I didn't ask to be invited yet here I was the centre of it all.

"…I heard the kid doesn't even like Chapperton." Another I didn't recognise added gleefully. "You know it's funny because I can sense the bad aura."

I could feel my breathing turn shallow, and it felt as though my lungs had shrunk to about the size of two dimes.

And Jesus Christ, numero uno in chapter one of the backstabbing rule book: at least get the fucking name of the victim right. On another day I would simply have rolled my eyes but my insides were currently clenched with such fury, my energy was directed elsewhere.

"…did they adopt?" It was asked with such dripping vitriol I'm surprised she wasn't standing in a pool of it. "I read adopted kids are less likely to bond with their parents."

This time a brunette chimed in, "He seems okay with her girlfriend, partner or whatever. Must be just her, poor thing."

My mothering skills was a delicate subject for me. By delicate I don't mean the cute flower delicate but cutting the wires of a bomb in its last remaining seconds delicate. Ever since Alex and I adopted Toby, I've been harbouring these constant fleeting thoughts of maybe I'm not good enough…maybe I'm not cut out for this role, the same way a student with a GPA average of 2.0 isn't going to get into into medical school, no matter how much they want it.

I've always been second-guessing myself, trying to tread the delicate balance between the yummy mommy and tiger mom approach. I watch Alex and how effortlessly easy she makes it seem, how well Toby and her gel off each other. It shouldn't be but it makes my heart swell with pride and aching jealousy all at once.

"…must be a genetic thing, happened to Rosie, remember." It was Kirsty again.

I shut my eyes realising I'm about a hairbreadth away from losing my temper. After all, there's a first for everything and I'm not ruling out the impending threat of a mass playground brawl that involved me throwing a few well deserved punches around. I mean was it even illegal to assault someone who rightfully deserved it? I think not.

My transformation into a full on she-Hulk was thankfully halted by my joint first place love of my life running up towards me with all the gusto and glee of someone genuinely happy to see me.

"Mommy! Mommy!"

My dark filled mind was all of a sudden freed up to accommodate the instant happiness soaring through me. Toby practically harpooned himself at me, his little body moulding right into mine. I ruffle his hair, and bent down to kiss his forehead. The smell of fresh baby shampoo and candy tickling my nose. Forget Xanax, baby shampoo is what keeps me tethered to sanity nowadays.

"Hey honey!" I scoop up his school bag, "How was your day?"

"Mommy, we did painting today." He he rolls open his finished artwork and points at the three scribbles I assumed were people at me, various watercolours overlapping each other, "That's you and mom, and me."

"Wow, that's awesome."

His enthusiastic outburst must have caught the attention of the gaggle of Range Rover driving hags who'd been spitefully judge and jurying my suitability of being a half-way decent mom. I was still not entirely against breaking my smack a bitch down embargo.

Their heads snapped in our direction - faced filled with cartoonish horror, "Oh Piper…we didn't realise you were here."

It was Kirsty. She definitely belonged to the category of Real Life Internet Troll.

I stand back up, running my hands through Toby's hair, and without looking mutter, "Yeah, well I am."

"How are you?" She stuttered, obviously trying to gauge how much of their tête-à-tête I heard. "You look really well."

My teeth are pressed together so hard I was at risk of biting through my own face. History dictates I'm really bad at keeping my emotions in check - no I leave that to Alex - she was the queen of the forever cryptic poker face. But oddly I found myself at this moment to be awfully calm and collected.

Alex couldn't give a shit what others thought of her and I don't think she even realised this but her blatant defiance of the so called status quo had earned her an unlikely dose of respect among the lady parent contingent.

I answer her with a flat tone, "I was doing really well but then I heard that apparently I'm a crappy mom. So now I'm not doing too well." I cock my head, "Does that answer your question, Kirsty?"

"No, no, it's not like that…" She stammered. Her face was all pale and sallow and she looked like she was about to faint. Good. I kinda hoped it was the kind where she lost control of her bladder and pissed all over herself.

I didn't bother answering her and instead gave them all an emphatic stare-down, curiously watching their faces churn and squirm. Hundred thousand dollars worth of plastic surgery moved before my eyes before I decided that was enough before marching off with Toby in tow.

I hadn't even reached the school gates before survival mom mode abruptly switched off. I could feel a heat dragging across my face, warningly heralding the oncoming deluge of tears. My fake smile that I'd managed to keep up through the ordeal instantly wiped away.

"Mommy?"

I bow my face away from Toby and busy myself with securing him in his car seat, my hands shaking so bad I could barely clasp the seat belt.

His little hand reaches out to me and he softly strokes my cheek, his own face a picture of almost adult like sympathy, "Why are you crying?"

"I'm not sweetheart." I quickly wipe my face and try to give him my best mommy's okay smile but I cannot seem to fully commit to it.

"But you look so sad."

Taking a deep shaky breath I look him in the eyes trying hard in ignoring the tight discomfort tangling my insides.

It's funny, although not our biological child Toby had so many of our qualities, and right this moment his eyes; green and vivid like Alex's bore into me with that same intent regard she often had.

When I eventually find my voice, it comes out all choked and alien sounding, "Hey, hey…I'm fine. Mommy's just feeling a little emotional right now."

"What's em-otion-al?" He suddenly jerks up, his brain latching onto another revelation, "Is that bad?"

I'm suddenly too overwhelmed to keep talking and also I'm pretty sure I'm going to completely lose it in this parking lot so I quickly kiss him on the forehead and murmur, "It's getting late. Let's get you home, champ."

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By the time the following week rolls in I've managed to wring out the uneasy thoughts that had been bothering me. It seems my zeitgeist of the last week had largely revolved around feeling either sorry for myself which included avoiding Kirsty on the playground like I was in high school or something or wanting to spar with anyone who so much as looked at me the wrong way.

My emotions had been like a swaying pendulum on steroids but luckily the last few days I've seemed to hit stable ground at last. Plus I had our weekly lunch date with Alex to look forward to so at least that was something.

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It's a cool mid-week afternoon when I bounced onto the sidewalk and thanked the stars for surviving yet another dash through the daily city ruckus that was downtown New York. Traffic was as always mercilessly swarming. The afternoon lunch hour almost as busy as the usual five o clock rush, and as I dodged a few horn happy taxi drivers and nearly became one with a cyclist flying through an intersection did I realise today was no different.

 _Gerry's_ was predictably bustling and as I walked through the front doors, I'm suddenly afflicted with a heavy dose of nerves at seeing Alex.

At first glance appeared as though all the tables had already been taken. But then Gerry himself popped up from behind the counter when he spotted me entering the restaurant and smoothly guided me to an empty table with a reserved sign placed on it.

"Ah Miss Piper! I thought you were not coming today."

"Hey Ger," I air-kissed him on both cheeks before settling me into my seat, "I've been New-Yorked…that's why."

"New-Yorked?" He laughed as he took my coat and pulled the chair out.

"Y'know, the daily war zone of cars and tourists that is basically downtown Manhattan."

"Ah you'll get used to it."

"I've been living here for nearly a decade."

"Try thirty and I'm still not used to it." He turns around, "The usual?"

I settled into my seat, "Sure."

For the past three years, Alex and I have been frequenting Gerry's for our lunch meets. We tried to get together for lunch at least once a week by synching our mid-day breaks together.

Gerry's was a family run place, modestly tucked between an industrial high rise and a popular casino. But for lack of visibility it more than made up with its wholesome home-cooked Italian food and relaxing ambience. Gerry himself was an old-school big hearted Italian American, lightyears past retirement but firmly determined to serve food until his very last breath. Over the years we'd gone from his regulars to a sort of second family.

I was busy pouring over the drinks menu when a voice materialised behind me, warm breath tickling my ear, "Go for the Sauvignon. It goes well with pretty much everything."

"Jesus, fuck." I gave an unearthly yell, nearly jumping out of my seat just as the heads of a few elderly customers distastefully upturning their noses at my somewhat sacrilegious outburst.

"Really, Alex?" I protest without even turning my head because there was only one person who had rattled my heart one too many times.

"Seriously, babe, you have shocking observation skills. I practically walked by right under your nose."

"Well good job I'm not a detective then."

Alex scrunched up her nose and nuzzled my neck in a conciliatory manner and went on to kiss me open-mouthed, not giving two shits over the unlikely audience we seemed to be gathering.

She brushed past me and took the seat opposite, her eyes never leaving my difficult to maintain indignant face which was also trying to secretly recover from that breathtaking greeting.

"You have no idea how much that pouty face of yours turns me on." She leans forward, jaw twitching with barely concealed mirth, "It's what keeps me awake at night."

In spite of the frankly inconceivable amount of cocky, I can't help but forge my lips into a smile, 'Last I heard that's called insomnia."

"Insomnia? She sounds nice but she's not my type…whereas you."

"Type? Didn't realise you were looking for a blood donor."

"Oof," Alex tipped her head and shot me a faux-hurt look,"You're killing me with your words here."

I shrugged my shoulders, completely unapologetic. A much proper alternative than the other probably socially unacceptable thought of wanting to climb her like a tree right about now. I suspect the heartbreaker outfit of smart casual had a lot to do with that.

Our eyes drift to each other, "What are you thinking about right now?" Alex leans her elbows on the table, and adds emphatically, " _Like right now?"_

"Nothing much." I casually gesture at the menu I've been intently reading like it was the Bible's scripture itself. "Just the uh…the spaghetti'll be a good choice, don't you think?"

"You sure?"

"Am I sure about the spaghetti? Definitely."

I try to keep my demeanour all off-handed and lackadaisical but my gaze couldn't help but be lured into Alex's face and her teasing filth of a smile. I realise then my defiance is all in vain and she's obviously read my abhorrently horny mind.

She winks at me, "It's okay."

I gave a small laugh, like we hadn't just participated in the most obvious eye-fuckery ever. My eyes dart to the side as an electrical current zinged up my spine and I was but a second away from going up in actual flames. Meanwhile Alex sits back unperturbed and peruses the menu. She catches my eyes, and with the world's most smug smile - that by now I knew like the back of my hand - casually asks, "I'm having the soup today, you?"

"I think I'll stick with the spaghetti."

"Good choice."

What an asshole. She truly had mastered the art of seeming nonchalance.

Thankfully Gerry arrived and placed the starters on the table.

"Miss Alex! How nice to see you!"

"And you too Gerry. Is the old wife still giving you bother over that Corvette you bought?"

He scrunches up his nose in defiance, "She buys make-up and fancy perfumes. I buy cars. I don't really understand what the problem."

Alex answers, "She'll come round soon enough, don't worry."

When Gerry leaves us, I brush Alex's hand away from her wine glass. "Not so fast, aren't you driving?"

"It's one drink."

"That's what everyone says until they wrap their car around a tree and I cannot have you wrapping cars around trees."

I swipe the drink before meeting Alex's not so pleased expression, and add, "I on the other am on a limitless drink policy."

"Speaking of alcohol…your Ruski partner in crime asked me to pass this to you."

"What is it?" I narrow my eyes, watching Alex slide a small basket covered with foil to me. There's a sweet apple smell that hits my nose, giving me a clue to the contents of it.

"Hang on," Alex fumbles with her blazer pocket and reads off a scrap paper, "I had to write it down - no way in hell would I have remembered the name of it. _Pirozhki."_

 _"_ Oh!" I take a quick peek at the basket, "Red's been talking about this so much. I was beginning to think it's like unicorns; only heard of but never seen."

"She said you need to eat them warm."

My brows furrow together, "Also since when have you two been so pally?"

"Since I've helped the business expand into a multi-million dollar corporation. I've noticed people tend to become real grateful when that happens. Funny that." She swipes my drink, "One sip, I promise."

"Well I'll tell her thanks."

Alex sits back, "You know I've changed my mind about Red. She's got a good head on her shoulders and has _the_ best work ethic I have seen in anyone. Must be a Russian thing…that and the strong sense of family they have."

 _Family_

There goes the buzzword that causes me to swallow back a bile of acid that had suddenly shot up. Alex might as well have used a megaphone because it's now the only thing that's ricocheting against the walls of my ear canals.

 _You're over-reacting Piper,_ my brain muttered, and instead of calm, my throat tightened up and my chest ached. So much for hitting stable ground, more like flailing in stormy waters.

How do I even begin? Hey Alex, we're the talk of the playground. I overheard a bunch of the plastics discussing how crap of a mom I was - so like a good mom I nearly ran banshee berserk - ready to throw myself into probably the school's first playground brawl in it's three hundred year history.

I push the food around on my plate, my appetite abruptly banished and my mind once again forcing me onto an unsolicited journey through nightmare-ville: _she's not fit to be a mom…it's in her DNA…parents of adopted kids…_

I try to focus on the chatter of nearby diners because at this point I cannot bear to look Alex in the eyes. Unfortunately, the voices in my head were much louder and brash than the people around me.

Wine. Where's the wine? My hand blindly reaches for my glass but rising anxiety causes me to overshoot. Now I'm covered in red wine, the cold liquid seeping through my jeans as another liquid dared to seep out of my eyes. Jesus, I was such an over-dramatic mess.

It hadn't even occurred to me the glass had shattered, and it was only until one of the waiters was kneeling beside me and clearing the shards that I realised what had happened.

Blindly, I shove my chair back and shoot to my feet, "Alex…I think I'm going to go."

Alex stands up with me, her face slightly alarmed, "Hey, you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine." I ball my hands into fists, majorly angry at myself for the over the top theatrics. I always did have a knack in turning mole hills into mountains. "It's just…I've still have a lot of stuff to sort at work." It's the first time I look up, "You know how that place can get in the evening."

"But now? I mean can't it wait? We haven't even got our mains yet."

Hesitation strikes me down but prerequisite embarrassment prevents me from spilling the beans to Alex. I've no choice but to face her questioning stare. "I've…I just need to head back."

"You sure? Alex slaps a couple of dollar bills on the table and nods to Gerry who waves back at us, "Let me at least give you a ride."

"No, it's fine. I'll be lucky to get back before closing time in this rush hour."

"Okay." Alex concedes reluctantly, "Text me when you get there."

I plaster on a smile that even a three year old would see right through and place a small kiss on Alex's cheek before murmuring, "I'll see you back home."

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	3. I'm too busy moping around

**3.** I'm too busy moping around

* * *

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The weekend shift was infamously named the devil's incarnate. It was twice as much work, thrice as much abuse and I had half the will and motivation to get through it.

Add to that; Haven had been running short on staff the last few weeks, something that seemed to exponentially increase the workload for the poor lot that were actually on shift. This is what happens when people lead a life outside of work. Funny that.

Red on the other hand, didn't seem to consider taking days off work as a necessity and in fact during my seven year tenure at Haven - I have yet to see her take a day off. The gang all had bets on when the day would finally come. Over the years it had turned into something of an inside joke. Personally, I figured we had a better chance of spotting the Loch Ness monster or catching Bigfoot than ever witness Red partaking in human things like _vacations._

I'm whizzing past tables and dodging annoyingly oblivious slow walkers all while trying to perform a three plate balancing act even Cirque du Soleil would be proud of. I just about manage to offload the plates at table sixteen without splashing soup and sauce everywhere.

I take a moment for a quick breather, wiping the sweat off my face and for once glad for the rush hour mayhem. The thing I figured was the more I worried about the food and the customers the less brain space there was for me to dwell on what I'd overheard on the playground.

Unfortunately, no matter how chaotic the place became there was still a slither of brain that kept zinging at me to speak to Alex about it. We hadn't really spoken since _Gerry's_ \- partly because our days hadn't been synced enough to actually see each other for more than an hour but also my active avoidance of talking to Alex other than benign chit chat.

But as the days go by I feel the anxiety weight growing heavier and heavier and I wonder whether I'd be able to walk by the time this shift ended. More forceful than necessary I jam the pin onto the order board as though that could ever compensate for my shitstorm misgivings.

I'm snapped out of my thoughts by the bell indicating several orders were ready. It's like that for most of the day, me racing back and forth to the kitchen, the orders coming faster than I did in bed.

"Enjoy your food! I shout halfway across the hall, having forgotten my customary waitress spiel to the couple at table four.

By five the flood of customers showed no signs of abating.

Jesus, it was like sharks at feeding time - I might as well start tossing hunks of meat into the thrashing waters. I slide across a plate of steak decorated with dill and lemon at table three - glad for the fact that at least here there was no danger of my hand being bitten off.

"Enjoy your food." I didn't even get to fully commit to my fake waitress smile when I was rudely cut off.

"Where's the peppercorn sauce?"

It's a woman; well dressed and face twisted into that typical supercilious Upper East sneer. She doesn't even spare me a glance when she continues, "I _explicitly_ asked for peppercorn sauce. How am I supposed to eat this now?"

Scratch that, I'd rather deal with actual sharks - at least they were well mannered enough to be grateful when fed.

"So what are you waiting for?" The woman's whining drags me out of my thoughts, "Now my steak's is going cold."

Does she not know I'm in a foul mood? Sadly for her though she has chosen the wrong day to assert her rude bullshit onto me.

I face her squarely, "As you can see I have two hands and it takes me two round trips to bring all your food to the table. Maybe I could have used my third hand? Or should I have carried it on my head instead so I could have spared you the traumatic thirty second catastrophe of a sauceless steak?"

"Okay…" She glances at my badge and addresses me by name - presumably a power move ploy. "Look _Piper_ …Can I speak to the manager. I don't like your tone at all."

"Speaking," I lightly respond.

She furrows her brows in confusion, "What?"

"I'm the manager. What seems to be the problem?"

She's seething, nostrils flaring and looking curiously witch-like. I'm almost inclined to check under her chair for the broomstick and cauldron she must surely own.

"Is this a fucking joke? This is by far the worst service I have experienced, I'll be sure to write a-"

"Here." I slap down our complaints form in front of her, "That should speed things up."

She's momentarily speechless before she goes full throttle bitch mode, "Listen, you. I don't know who you think you are but I have never had such disgusting-"

"The form." I abruptly cut her off, "It needs to go on the form. Unfortunately it's Haven policy, we only accept the written form. I could get you a pen if you'd like?"

She's already gathering her things before storming off in a whoosh of angry fumes.

Oh fuck.

As much as that woman was in the wrong - that wasn't me. Yes, I have tantrums - even more volatile than Toby's but I have never ever lost my fuse at a customer before.

What was happening to me? Where had all that viciousness come from?

I stop in my tracks and contemplate - maybe it's something I've always had - something that would never be compatible with a skill like fine parenting. Was this an embodiment of the Carol Chapman legacy? I don't know but one thing's for sure, I gotta talk to Alex about it. Whether I liked it or not.

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"Mom! Look! I draw a dinosaur today…and the teacher said mine was the best. It's like big and-"

Toby launches himself at Alex from halfway across the playground, his little body weaving with surprising agility through the crowds of waiting parents.

We made it a point - well actually I made a point of picking Toby up together at least once a week, apparently it helps kids see their parents as a united front and be less likely to turn into rebellious little monsters and or psychopaths. At least that's what the two hundred different parent help books I've read always seemed to preach.

We both barely catch a few words among the lightning speed chatter. Toby speech had two categories: fast and even faster.

But Alex forever the patient one, scoops him up with both hands, and with exaggerated triumph holds him aloft, "Woah bud that's amazing! You definitely have to show me it when we get home."

"It's blue and green and yellow. But not green, because the green crayon was took by Connor."

"Taken." Alex corrects him, ruffling his hair.

We all pile into the car and are instantly stuck behind a growing queue of cars.

"Move!" The shrill sound of a car horn temporarily deafens me. "I'm sorry I didn't realise the road has all of a sudden turned into a free for all giant parking lot."

I make a beeline for Alex's hand just as she was about to press the horn again, "Jesus, Alex…really? Are you one of those drivers now?" I quickly glance back at Toby who looked much too excited by the unlikely entertainment to take notice of Alex's outburst.

"Only when these asshole drivers continue to exist." Alex answered, her voice low so that Toby couldn't hear in the back. "I bet you it's that Kirsty with that bratty kid, that woman must have had a stroke in the part that controls spatial awareness because that's the only explanation for that." She points at the double parked Porsche, and to add insult to the injury it was sat right under the no parking sign no less and now currently blocking most of late afternoon rush traffic. "That or she's just plain thick."

"Mom? Why are you beeping at that car?"

"It's okay, Tobes," Alex answers, "Your mom here is just putting out a reminder some people don't deserve licenses."

"What's a license?"

"Something that can apparently be picked up off the back of cereal boxes these days."

I'm supposed to be all indignant but I can't help but burst out into a fit of laughs, a few stray giggles escaping past my hastily covered mouth. It's an easier response than the gnarling of my stomach ever since I heard Kirsty's name.

Alex catches my eyes and throws me a wink, her smile all roguish, "See? Even your mommy agrees with me."

I playfully nudge her in her side, my heart not really into the banter, "Yeah...don't you dare make me an accessory in this."

"Mommy!" Toby turns to me, dragging me out of my thoughts, his face all innocent and expectant, "Can we get pizza, please please please!"

I suspect the giant Papa John sign we just drove past may have something to do with it. With the adorability factor cranked up like that, only a soulless witch would refuse…plus the thought of pizza now suddenly reawakened by cravings so I easily concede, "Yeah sure, why not."

"You're in a good mood today." Alex remarks, as she pulled through an intersection. "I'm glad."

I find myself smiling awkwardly and seriously consider whether this was the best time to bring up _that_ but the right moment had already sailed past when Toby suddenly stops his incessant shaking of my shoulder and cocks his head in surprise, "Really?"

"Really, what?"

"Are you _really_ saying yes to pizza? Like really?" Toby asks again, his face a picture of amazement.

Was it really that shocking that I said yes to something? What was going on?

I look out of the window, "Yes, really."

"But you always say no to everything."

"Well sweetie, I'm not now." I respond, more tersely than I wanted, I look to Alex whose gaze is deliberately set frontwards with an expression that said please don't involve me in this.

I let out an emphatic huff, "Okay, spill it out."

Alex shrugs her shoulders as she manoeuvres the car into the drive, "What? I have nothing to say."

"Well whatever your face wants to say."

I could read Alex's face like a book in the dark, she should really know this by now.

We're climbing out of the car, Toby running well ahead of us, when I give her a purposeful look, "And?"

Alex drops her head, hands shoved deep in her pockets, "Okay…please don't take this the wrong way, babe. But you've kinda set us up as the good cop / bad cop pairing. And it's maybe something Toby's picked up on, hence his surprise at the pizza thing. You know how kids are."

I obviously opt for the take it very personal route, "What do you mean?"

Alex doesn't answer, instead I follow it up with another question, _"_ So _I'm_ the bad cop in this I presume?"

My mind is running in cartwheels. Bad cop didn't mean a cop who was inherently bad at his job but one who was purported to be an asshole and liked to fuck around with his suspects - it's that that bothers me a whole lot - that specific connotation that apparently perfectly describes my motherly skills.

Alex squirms, clearly already hating the conversation suddenly veering into arctic lands. But I'm on a plight to find out in the utmost of details whether I am in fact turning into my own mother - or had I always been her? My brain latches onto the overheard comments from Kirsty et al - I feel myself going cold.

My dear mother, who favoured the military handbook approach in rearing kids; all crack of dawn drills and absence of emotion may have had more of an impact on me then previously thought.

I swallow back a roil of acid that seems to have funnelled its way into the back of my throat. I did carry half of Carol's genes and in the interest of statistical probability at least one or two of the shitty mom genes must have been passed onto me.

"No." Alex sighs wearily, "What I mean is…you can sometimes be a little much. And I think...I think it comes across as bad cop." She shrugs her shoulders, "It's not a big deal, Piper. Let's just drop it, yeah?"

I know I shouldn't take this to heart, but it fucking hurts, "So we've gone from a _maybe_ to a _definite._ So which is it, Alex?" I come to an abrupt standstill at the door. Thankfully, Toby had already skirted inside.

Alex just purses her lips. She knows not to oil the flames of my temper but her undying patience just serves to ignite the brewing fire even further.

"I just want to know what you meant."

"What do you want me to say, Piper? You're clearly not happy with _any_ answer I give."

"You expect me to not to respond to what you said? You can't say shit Alex and tell me to just forget about it." I force myself to keep my voice down, trying to keep it as far away from yelling territory, and instead stage whisper, "And while we're on the subject of good cop bad cop...of course when you're always playing the good cop it automatically always makes _me_ the bad cop."

It's the first time Alex's face falters, "What is that supposed to mean?"

Is she really being that obtuse? "C'mon Alex, you know exactly what I mean. You treat Toby more as a friend than you do a parent for the most part. No wonder I'm seen as the bad mom in this."

Alex's eyes flash with annoyance, the softness vanishing in an instant, "I never said you were a bad mother. I don't know what you're trying to imply here but we both know you're talking utter fucking bullshit right now."

"Y'know that kid favours you more than me." My jaw is set tight, the ugly truth contorting my muscles, "I'm no mom and you're obviously yes mom."

Alex clenches her eyes shut, "Is that what this is about? _Are you jealous?"_

"Jealous?" I throw her an astonished look, nearly spitting the word out. "I'm sorry I don't want our son to turn into some kind of renegade runaway who happily defies the rules because he's never been taught the meaning of _no."_

Alex scoffs, "You're beginning to sound like your mother now." She starts to turn back into the house, "I can't deal with this right now, I'm going inside."

My eyes turn wide and my hand lashes out, jolting her to a stop, "Don't you fucking dare bring my mother into this."

Alex looks down at my hand still grabbing hold of her arm, before looking back up at me like she didn't even know who I was anymore.

"What do you want for me, Piper? I can read between the lines here and see you're there's clearly something else going here."

There's an unpleasant unfurling in my stomach, "You're the one who's painting me as some kind of sociopathic tiger mom, Alex. Don't you think I've noticed that over the years? Don't you think I've seen the way you roll your eyes at how I do things? So don't try to turn this back onto me."

"What? You're being plain ridiculous now."

"Am I?"

"You're imagining things and it's making you believe things that are not real."

I let out a disbelieving laugh, angry for not being taken seriously, "You know what? Fuck you, I'm done with this"

Alex holds her hands up, her tone full of sarcasm, "Sorry if I'm not as pedantic about raising kids like you. Just because it's not your way doesn't mean it's the wrong way."

I jab my finger at her, my skin prickling uncomfortably, "I didn't realise setting boundaries for kids is what's classed as the devil's work these days." My voice kept rising and rising, "I guess I'll have to take a leaf out of your book of yes fucking mom 101 to know I'm doing things right."

Alex pauses and rolls her glasses into her hair, "Ah I get it. This is about _you_ …not me. This is about _you_ projecting your insecurities and fucking confidence issues onto me. This is about _you_ all worried Toby likes me more than he does you…which is so fucking ridiculous a concept, Piper. I don't even know what to say."

I reeled back, momentarily silenced by the unexpected verbal blow. It's much too close to the truth and I shouldn't even be surprised but it still caught me completely off guard. I couldn't find the words to respond with, couldn't decide, couldn't access them.

I've got tears jabbing at the backs of my eyeballs, which is just stupid but more to the point embarrassing. God, I hope I'm coming onto my period because PMS would be the only rational explanation as to why I just want to fucking bawl my eyes out.

Alex was right, maybe I'm not as good as a mother I thought I was. Maybe I'm just destined to carry on the legacy of my parents and I should just stop resisting the powers of genetics. I wrap my arms around me, feeling dejected and cold all of a sudden.

"I'm going inside. It's getting cold." I mumble, desperate to make it to the end of the sentence without bumbling into a heap of tears.

Alex, surprised at my unlikely deference looks all tense, her eyes glinting with rising discomfort.

My hands are shaking so I ball them into fists, the nails digging into my skin. Nobody says anything when we both enter the house, the silence vying for our attention. Fortunately Toby was too engrossed in the cartoon show playing on TV to notice anything amiss with his parents. But we both have our automatic happy face on reserve in case he was to glance our way.

Alex follows me into the corridor and gently runs a hand over my arm, "Listen, Piper…-"

"It's fine, Alex. Really." My voice wavers dangerously, "It's getting late and I should…" I end up gesturing the last part of the sentence by pointing towards the bedroom.

She's searching my face for encouragement but when none comes, fully turns to me, "I'm sorry I shouldn't have said anything. I'm sorry. Shitty things are said in the heat of the moment-"

Wow, I felt like an actual piece of shit. Of course if wasn't her fault. As they say the truth hurts and this one hurt like a fireball of a bitch.

"I said it's fine." I mutter in what was the most unconvincing declaration of _I'm fine_ ever, "I don't really want to talk about it anymore. Let's leave it there, please." I find myself pulling away from her, "It's…it's getting late and I'm super tired..."

I can sense Alex hesitate beside me but to her credit she doesn't press any further. There's an awkward period as we walk through the corridor, the blaring tunes of Power Rangers creating a sort of discordance that made the air around us even more agonising.

I'm stood at the foot of the stairs about to climb up, when Alex asks, "Are you going to come down for pizza later?"

My eyes don't leave the floor, "No…I mean yeah." I try to shake the buzzy fog my head seems to be in, "I don't know. I uh…I'll let you know."

The silence stretches between us.

It's Alex who eventually brings it to an end. She leans forward, squeezes my hand which isn't helping with the remaining stoic thing and says _okay_ in a hopeful voice that breaks my heart into smithereens.

* * *

I'm so fucking stupid and selfish.

I've not even spent a second mulling around in the bedroom before I'm hit with that unfortunate truth bomb. My pacing halts. The room suddenly feels hot and uncomfortable, the walls starting to close in on me. So I head to the balcony and step out, glad for the night air cooling down the stress heat no doubt emanating from me.

I slump into one of the deck chairs and ponder over the last ten minutes that may as well have been a hundred years. Of course it wasn't Alex's fault I have unresolved inadequacy issues and she sure as hell didn't deserve my passive aggressive let's take it personal drama. And in the usual Chapman standard operating procedure I do a runner when things became even marginally heated. I basically had a PhD in melodrama.

I glance up and try to distract myself from the doom and gloom thoughts swirling inside my head by counting the stars dotted in the night sky. That quickly came to an end when I could count only three, the rest of the constellations washed out by the bright glare of city lights. Easily resigned, I lean back and let out a long frustrated sigh - I could always count on New York's light pollution to sabotage any escape from my thoughts.

I take a deep breath and try and reign my emotions in but it only made me feel lightheaded and sick. I was starving and the smell of pizza drifting in through the nooks of the closed door was definitely making my hunger pangs turn from tiny little churns to full on giant icicles piercing my stomach walls.

But I couldn't face going downstairs and look into Alex's eyes.

Truth be told I felt like a failure, an embarrassment - the rational and logical me knew that was stupid but the emotionally driven heart was having none of that.

Suddenly the door flies open and it's not a hot second later when a familiar little bundle of energy clambered onto my lap.

I somehow manage to drag out my cheery mom voice, "Hey honey!"

He looks up at me; dark tufty hair sticking out in all directions and looking extra levels of cute. God bless that untainted unconditional love kids possessed. I clutch onto him even tighter. I mean who knew how long that was going to last for.

"We had PIZZA! I had the one with tommy and cheese."

My fingers absently run through his hair, "I think you mean tomato and cheese, Tobes."

"Yeah, tommy and cheese…but mommy why didn't you come for pizza?"

I feel myself hesitate, "Mommy wasn't feeling too hungry."

"Really?" He cocks his head in complete amazement, presumably shocked at how any human being could reject the entices of _pizza._

"What about you, did you like yours then?"

"Uh huh. Mom let me have two whole pieces." He held up his fingers up to emphasise the number, "And I finished all of them, except the hard bits."

"The crusts?"

"Yeah the crushes…they hurt my teeth."

A smile creeps up my face, five year old's speech was just the greatest.

We sit like that for a while when Toby nudges me in the side, "Mommy?"

"Hmmm?"

"Is mom mad at you?"

The comment instantly snapped me out of serenity. I tilt my head down and look him in the eyes. His curiously expectant expression a carbon copy of Alex's. It felt like the best and worst thing in the world right now.

"Why? What makes you think that, sweetie?"

"He shrugs and rubs his eyes, looking all uncertain, "I don't…I don't know.

"Hey, hey." I wrap my arms around him and pull him into a tight hug, "Your mom and I love each other very much and that is never ever going to change. And we both love you very much too…more than anything in this whole world."

He snaggles his way free, "More than pizza?"

I can't help but laugh, "Oh yeah, even pizza." I glance at the clock, "I think it's time for bed, young man. Go brush your teeth and I'll tuck you into bed."

He climbs of my lap, his face all sullen, "Do I have to?"

"Yes."

He looks like he's on the verge of crying, "I hate it so much."

There's that bad feeling again, that almost panicked doubt when faced with such innocuous decision making. It's absurd but these last few weeks and especially the last hour is making me overthink and over-analyse every bit of my interaction with Toby.

Is this too Carol or is this too bohemian earth mother?

Now the dilemma was my son's not going to like me if I force this onto him or concede and accept he'll have seven cavities by nine years old and be toothless by his teens.

If only there was a degree in mothering - I'd major in what the fuck do I do and minor in please help me.

Before I've made my decision he's already ran out of the room - probably to Alex - and I'm once again left alone.

I make the executive decision to get ready for bed and forfeit returning downstairs altogether. I somehow manage to convince myself it was the right thing to do. It was flimsy but it held just enough to allow me to eventually fall into a restless sleep.

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 _AN / happier times are a-coming...I promise_


	4. But in the end I'm not too bad

**4.** But in the end I'm not too bad

* * *

 _AN / Okay guys...I kinda ended up in hospital over the Christmas / NY period with a nasty appendicitis, hence the lack of update. But I'm on the mend now and owe it to you all to see this fic through to completion. In the meantime, thanks for the infinite patience, for the kind reviews and for reading of course._

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"You wanna talk about it?"

I snatch around and come face to face with Poussey staring at me, eyes filled with concern.

Apparently the industrial walk in fridge wasn't as solitary as previously thought.

"No, I'm fine." I casually shrug. The fact I'm voluntarily freezing my ass off in mini Antarctica bringing great doubt to that statement. "Just needed some time alone."

"Just so you know, there are warmer places to have some alone time, P." She points back at the shop floor, "I saw what happened with the steak lady at table three the other day. _Personally_ , she deserved what was coming but I'm speaking to the gal who damn _apologises_ when a customer spills crap on her," She cocks her head, "So what's going on with you?"

"Nothing I was just trying to catch some fresh air."

"In a freezer?" She caught my defeated expression, "Come on dude, really? You do not seem like yourself lately."

I turn my head, a little humour seeping in, "Do you have a spare three hours?"

"Three hours? Girl we won't last five minutes if we stay in here any longer." She grabs my hand, "Come on, let's get outta here before we turn into Popsicles and some poor soul finds our frozen asses glued to the walls."

We head back to the main kitchen area, passing Taystee who was stock counting in the pantry. "Hey Pipes, what was all that about with that white lady the other day?"

I'm beginning to think this place must be rigged with security cameras because nothing seem to go unnoticed by these girls. At least things that concerned or involved me. My shoulders slumped, I murmur in dismay, "You saw that too, huh?"

"It's a kitchen." Nicky interjects as she leans against the doorway, conveniently inviting herself into conversations she definitely hadn't been invited to. Nicky was that one unsolicited gatecrasher who was known to drop uncomfortable truths at the worst possible moment.

She shoulders me all good-naturedly like that was supposed to be any kind of appeasement, "It's either talk about the origin of Brussels sprouts or watch Chapman go all Lara Croft on the customers."

"Guys, I didn't-"

"Fuck, shoulda seen the primal anger in her eyes. She spooked me out _for sure."_

"I wasn't-"

Luckily I'm literally saved by the bell. Red's voice suddenly rattles through the PA system fitted in the kitchen and prep areas; ordering us to get our asses in gear and get back to our jobs. It's not even a minute later when the boss herself appears. How she had managed to make her way from the PA to practically conjure herself up in front of us - I hadn't the faintest idea. We're greeted with her usual scowl. Honestly, I'm surprised it hasn't set in on a permanent basis seeing as that was her default expression ninety-five percent of the time anyway.

"Hey!" I yelp a little too loudly while standing bolt upright - almost uncannily like a military salute. It's a Pavlovian response I'm not proud of and Nicky seems to agree judging from her face right on the edge of laughter.

I note that the others had quickly scarpered leaving myself and Nicky to face whatever wrath Red had in store for us.

Red lasers in on Nicky, "Where's the circus?"

"Sorry what was that, Boss?"

"What's so funny? Unless you're laughing at an invisible clown in an invisible circus?"

"Oh, it's nothing. It was just-"

Red turns to me - effectively having terminated that conversation, leaving Nicky comically floundering - the glimpse of her face uncharacteristically red.

Red could do that. She could cast the imperious charm on anyone and they'd do whatever she wanted. I could totally imagine her stopping a raging grizzly in its tracks with a stern look alone.

"The customers aren't going to feed themselves." She cocks her head, "You're responsible for these girls, Chapman. I expect you to keep your personal affairs out of the food but most of all out of the work."

Looks like I had to dial the moping face way back. I clutch onto my clipboard and chide myself a mental warning; because it hadn't even been a full shift and I was already spilling my emotions all over the place.

"Sorry, boss. On it." I declare before grabbing my apron, never more glad to dive back into food bedlam.

* * *

I lasted a grand total of two hours and three _are you alrights?_ from my co-workers before I decided that there was _maybe_ a little benefit in speaking to someone about my recent _issues._ Now it sounds like I'm heading to therapy. Jesus Christ. And I figured Red's ominous ultimatum did not extend into my well earned break time.

"Does Alex know about this?" Nicky asks after I relayed the skeleton details of what had happened.

"Not really."

I feel myself squirm in my seat at Nicky's bluntly direct question and wonder to myself that maybe I shouldn't have said anything at all. What was I even thinking when I'd managed to convince myself Nicky, of all people was premier talking to material?

"So instead of talking to your other half - you come to me?" She holds her hands out in a placating gesture, "I mean I'm not saying you can't but you know what I mean."

I let out a weary sigh, "If I'm being honest, Nicky…I'm not even sure _I_ know what the deal is. And I don't even know why I'm telling you this..." I close my eyes, trying to wade through the emotional chaos and find some solid ground, "We kinda… left it on a bad note and I'm not sure I want to rehash that conversation again but I still need answers and someone to talk to and..." I shrug my shoulders, "All I know is I love Alex and and I love Toby but I'm finding it hard to love myself." My voice takes on an almost desperate pleading tone, "Do you understand what I mean?"

Nicky sidles over to me, "C'mon, Piper. You guys are just the kind of annoyingly in love couple that insist on renewing their wedding vows every month of the goddamn calendar. A little marital tiff is just like piss in the ocean for you guys."

"Do you think I'm a good mom?" I blurt out, studiously avoiding her gaze and grimacing like crazy.

I'm glad for her unperturbed response. "You know if by that you mean are you the only person on this planet to have read every parent book cover to cover _voluntarily?_ Then yes." She catches my indignant expression, "Yeah even though it's been a couple of years now, I knew about that. As a matter of fact, we _all_ knew about that. And also you're probably the only person I know who has written letters to Toby for when he's older...so if all that's doesn't drill some kind of reassurance into your mom-hood then I don't know what will."

"Hang on, how do you know about the letter thing?"

Nicky has the decency to appear sheepish. "Taystee told me."

Funny that - since I also hadn't told Taystee. I sink into the chair, annoyance prickling at my skin. Nicky must have read my outraged face because she adds, "Who was told by Poussey."

"Jesus, Nicky...anyone else? How about the janitor, does he know? Or the lady who cleans the windows every month, does she know as well?"

"Before you lose your rag on me…you do know writing future letters to your children is kinda what people do when their expiry date is nigh? As in they're going to die?" Her eyes grew large, "Oh man, you don't have cancer or anything?"

"What? No!" I exclaim affronted. I know I'm meant to be serially upset but the tangy smell of nachos was thwarting that with ease. I grab a handful, "And fuck you guys for not keeping shit to yourselves."

"Don't blame me. I was the last in the chain of gossip so definitely the innocent recipient."

As much as I was irritated, I still wanted to hear her answer. "So?"

"Oh, I didn't realise you wanted a serious answer."

I fidget with the leather of the chair, fully aware of my dwindling patience, "I do."

"Okay here goes, this is a real friend talk, heart to heart, head to head, vag to vag or whatever. And this is by no means a revelation but more of a gentle reminder." She pauses, "Something you obviously already know..."

"Christ, did I ask for a prologue? Get to the point."

"Okay…okay. Let me put it this way: you're trying to climb a mountain _you_ yourself have already greased up with a shit ton of lube." She shrugs her shoulders with an airy sigh, "Lube is for dry ass vaginas, not metaphorical mountains."

I'm waiting for more because how on earth is vaginal lubrication in any way related to my mommy woes?

"Is that it? That's your grand revelation?"

"What I meant was don't make shit unnecessarily difficult and complicated for yourself. You kinda have a tendency to over-analyse everything, Piper. Try and relax once in a while." She leans over to me and places both her hands on my cheeks, like one of those coaches in those hackneyed sport movies, "The fact you're overthinking all of this speaks volumes in itself." She lets go, "You're a rock ass mom and I'm certain Alex thinks the same too." She laughs out loud, "And asking me of all people for parental advice is just the icing on top."

"I was desperate, okay." I rub my shoulder against hers, "But thanks because that was really helpful."

In between the dry sarcasm and gross humour Nicky did on the rare occasion give out surprisingly thoughtful advice but even I should know by now that was never something that lasted very long.

She leans forwards and snatches a nacho, "Let's face it, Chaps. I'd let you be _my_ mommy in a heartbeat." That statement had gone from reassuring to a full on sleazy suggestion when she winks at me, "Me, you and a ton of parent books, now how about that?"

I offer her a semi-disgusted side eye, "Just when I thought you could actually be mature for three seconds." I stick a piece of gum in my mouth and flash my wedding ring as a point of emphasis. Like that was even a deterrent for the likes of Nicky. "And also I don't think Alex would take kindly to that."

"Who said it had to be just us? The invitation is extended to hottie McGlasses too. I'm all about inclusivity and I don't want her to get a case of the FOMO, so the more the merrier."

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It's a warm start to the weekend when the smell of freshly made pancakes slowly dragged me out of a deep slumber. The first orange rays of morning sun shone through the Venetian blinds, the chirps of birds creating a singsong melody outside.

All in all the typical Hollywood-esque morning filled with that clean slate kind of possibility. One that was supposed to herald a day where I wake up with a smile on my face, happily bounce out the bed and kiss my significant other on the cheek over a cup of freshly brewed coffee.

Instead I can feel the residual dread from a few nights back beginning to creep through my bones, a teeming sense of unease springing back up as my mind slowly ran through that conversation with a fine tooth comb. The memories quickly snow-balling into an eventual avalanche of guilt and regret - but most of all anger at myself.

It's as though the birds outside also agreed because the pleasant singsong suddenly transformed into a toe-curling screech nightmare. I swear they were purposefully goading me into throwing a rock out of the window and silence their godawful patronising squawks.

 _But_ I couldn't afford to add psychopathic bird killer on my already sketchy résumé so instead forced myself to roll out of bed, get dressed and resolutely head downstairs.

I find the source of the pancake smell, Alex and Toby's voices drifting in from the kitchen. Hesitation keeps me statued by the doorway and instead I watch the scene before me. Alex was making pancakes - at least trying to from what I could see from my vantage point. Toby, pert in his high chair was happily flailing his arms in jubilant encouragement.

"Ok watch this, Tobes." Alex declares with the sort of embellished confidence Toby loved, "Did you know your very own mom is kind of a legend at flipping pancakes?"

"Flip! Flip! Flip!" Toby yelps, both of us watching Alex toss the pancake in the air - but she ends up spectacularly missing and it splats to the floor instead.

"Ooooooh!" Toby happy claps. "Again! Again!"

"Oh man, I may have spoken too soon."

For a brief tangible moment my eyes are fixed on Alex - on her face, her body, her stupid blue sweater covered in smudges of flour - the one I told her to throw out about a century ago but most of all I'm focused on her laugh. Forget the looks, it was that exact laugh, full of genuine energy that had drawn me to her in the first place, wanting to hear it again and again and again.

And all I could think - all my mind allowed me to process right now was how incredibly fucking lucky I was. All my stupid worries and our stupid argument so trivial and inconsequential it was almost embarrassing how much brain power I'd dedicated to that.

Alex spots me lurking by the doorway, her face revealing nothing of that night.

There's a discernible hesitation before she speaks, "We're making pancakes."

It's a pointless declaration but I knew it was her way of trying to start the morning on a good foot. I could almost feel my heart splinter. _I_ was responsible for that, and I owed it to the both of us to change it.

"You missed it! The flip!" Toby exclaims excitedly, inadvertently diffusing the suffocating tension between us, "Mommy, you shoulda seen it."

We're both still staring at each other from across the kitchen.

"Piper-"

I was too in the moment to slow myself to logically think through what I was about to do. I'm pretty certain a lot of decisions made through history had been through impulse and gut instincts so I reach out and grab Alex's hand before pulling her into the lounge.

"Hey sweetie," I direct at Toby before closing the door, "I'm just gonna have a quick chat with mom if that's okay. In the meantime why don't you put _Dalmatians_ on."

" _Dalmatians_!" He's already running off to his room when I shut the door behind us and steadfastly push Alex against it.

"Piper, listen…about that night. I just-"

My hands clinch onto her raggedy sweater before my mouth is on hers and I'm kissing her - hesitant at first, a little worried it wouldn't be reciprocated - but then Alex responds by opening herself up to me, her hands automatically grabbing hold of my face. Those hands that I was so accustomed to, hands I could pick out from a stadium full of people by just a touch. Those hands that had held mine, held _me_ , so so often over the years.

It's hard and fast and maybe with a tinge of desperate. But I don't care. Screw it, I didn't need fancy ass stage directions to dictate my every move. And it's only when we both run out of air that we stop. We're stood there, skin still touching, hands still entangled, both a little breathless.

Alex is staring at me, eyes narrowed but clearly surprised. All the faux unwavering energy I had suddenly seems to leave me and I'm left blushing with as much vigour as a red hot furnace. Unfortunately my mental script was blank from here onwards.

Act II as they say was still very much in the drafting stage.

Alex though - forever the let's go with the flow babe decides we should go down the let's improvise route.

"And good morning to you." Her fingers tracing the palm of my hand, her lips grazing mine ever so slightly, gentle and lovely, it made something inside me twist on itself, "If this is what happens every time I make pancakes I'll be sure to do it more often."

My carefully planned out apology speech had long ago left the realms of my mind and all I could think of was wanting to kiss her again.

So I do because who could resist wanting to kiss crappy pancake flippers who spoilt you with looks that could slay you clean in half and effortlessly quadruple your heart rate in the space of a second.

We finally pull back and it's me that breaks the forever stretching silence.

"Sorry."

Her eyes turn serious, body tensing slightly. I'm hit with an out of nowhere dose of nerves. I'm all of sudden anxious my contextless declaration was much too unclear, "I mean…I'm sorry for the other night and I'm sorry for jumping the fuse like that. You truly didn't deserve any of that." I shook my head and looked back up, "Basically I'm taking you along on my long and winding apology tour. There's a lot of stops and a lot of sorrys."

Her eyes softened, "So the kiss…was that also part of the apology…or?"

I give a self-effaced shrug, "No, I just wanted to do that. I figured it would be a good icebreaker."

Alex laughs, "Well I can say with confidence that the ice has definitely melted. I mean it was more of a fire starter but I'm totally okay with that too." She turned serious again, a long pause passing before she spoke again, "And I think it's not just you who has booked onto the apology tour."

"Al, no, listen-"

She places an index finger over my lips, the rest of my sentence halted. "I'm sorry too, Pipes. Probably even more so." She pauses as though choosing her words, "That stuff…that was uncalled for."

It's a wordless acknowledgement when I traced my thumb along the edge of Alex's blouse, the soft material gliding beneath the pads of my fingers. I glance up and our eyes lock.

I closed the fraction of a gap between us once again and emphatically placed my hands on her jaw. "I love you, Alex. I love you more than anything in this world and I want you to know that and never ever forget."

She's looking at me with such penetrating intensity it should have left marks on my skin. Firm hands cradle my waist and pull me in against her. This time it's Alex who kisses me, lips barely grazing my own. It's one of those softly tender _I hear you_ kisses.

It's only when the _101 Dalmatians_ theme tune cuts through that we break apart.

Her weird smile made me instantly wary, "What?"

"What?" Alex parrots.

"Are you still angry with me?"

"No."

"So what's with the thousand yard creep stare?"

She leant back, never taking her eyes off me. "I love you too much to ever stay angry at you, Piper."

Alex's smile was so soft and nice, it took half my heart with it. She'd said it with such unexpected solemnity it suddenly brought about a shyness I hadn't felt for a while, "Me too."

Alex loops a finger around one of mine and softly whispers, "Come on, before Toby declares us missing."

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 _AN / One more chapter! Will post sometime this week. Meanwhile love to hear your thoughts! :)_


	5. It feels like a dream when I'm with you

5\. It feels like a dream when I'm with you

* * *

 _AN/ As promised (ducks for cover)_

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The evening rolls in and it's after Toby was put to bed that we decide to head outside to the balcony. We both slouch into the deckchairs, feet propped up on the small table and collectively exhaling a sigh of contentment.

It's one of those still nights where the distant city din became dampened by the sounds of nature around us. There was the low pitched cadence of nearby crickets, joined by the gentle whoosh of swaying branches of the large oak tree, while the crackling embers of the neighbours' barbecue added to the typical collage of _summer_. I spend a few minutes watching the last of summer leaves fluttering downwards with the occasional breeze.

My gaze heavenward; I can't help but smile at tonight's crystal clear sky, now seemingly alive with hundreds of dotted stars. I sneak a glance at Alex who looks just as as I - the reflection of constellations mirrored in her glasses. It stays like that for sometime; a soft layer of serenity imbuing us, both of us quiet and contemplative.

Alex eventually breaks the silence, "Remember when Toby was around two and used to have those night terrors?"

"Oh yeah." I smile at the slowly surfacing memory, "I remember a lot of sleepless nights. I really think those few months were even worse than when he was a baby."

Alex slowly nods, before pausing as though she has to collect her thoughts. It's a while before she speaks again, "Remember also when you'd always joke about me being MIA or my last minute announcements of having to dash to work for a few hours?"

"Uh huh."

Frowning, I'm left wondering that although nice to reminisce over the past, Alex's face told me it was only a prerequisite for whatever she really wanted to tell me.

"I didn't."

I crane my neck to face her, "What do you mean?"

"I never left. I never left the house, I mean." Alex's voice was oddly tight, "I used to go to the garage and sit in the car trying… _trying_ not cry...and it wasn't just once, Piper." Her face took on a strained quality, "Those first few months when we brought him home…those were so fucking hard. When Toby had that bad stomach virus and we had those middle of night dashes to the doctor? That was hard. When he started kindergarten, even harder." She shrugs her shoulders and looks away, "I did that a lot. Having trying not to cry sessions in the car. Always thinking to myself could I actually do _this_?"

I stayed silent.

"You know Piper, I never saw myself as someone who could ever settle down. Never mind become responsible for a small human being. It was my idea of a suburban nightmare." She looks over to me and gives a soft, earnest laugh, "And watching you...being so natural and so goddamn terrific made me believe

I lean forwards, "Alex, why didn't you tell me?"

A long moment passes, and if it wasn't for the tickle of warm breath against my skin, I wouldn't have known Alex had let out a deep and weary sigh. I glanced over, watching her run a hand through her hair.

"Honestly, Piper. I don't really know. I guess maybe we had enough stress as it is. I didn't want to put my own crap on top of yours as well."

"I didn't know." Is all I manage to respond with.

"Yeah well, I guess now you know I'm not the super chill parent you thought I was."

"But Alex you're so good! So fucking brilliant at it!" I practically shout with utmost sincerity.

Alex's revelation shouldn't have even come as a surprise to me. Underneath her laid back persona was actually an incredibly sensitive person. Probably even more so than myself. At least with me I had a tendency to let my emotions known - either consciously or subconsciously.

I was as the say a firm heart on the sleeve wearer.

Alex, on the other hand had always been the kind of person to handle feelings cleanly and quietly - preferably wearing surgical gloves in the event of messy leaks. In a way it was comforting to know she had her own insecurities because it made my own infirmities seem that much more _okay._

Yet.

Yet there was also a small part of me that felt a degree of guilt: for not noticing, for not knowing, for being too preoccupied with my own shortcomings.

"You're making that face." Alex nudges me in the side, bringing an end to my ruminations, "I know what you're probably thinking but _I'm_ the one who should've told you."

"Alex-"

Her hand drops to mine, "My point is that we're both not perfect, Piper. And you know what…that's okay. It's totally fine."

"You know about that huh?" I squeeze Alex's hand, leaning into her heavily, grateful she allowed me to read between the lines instead of rehashing everything again, "I guess news travels fast."

"You just say the word and I'll suckerpunch Kirsty and co into the next state."

I give a small laugh, "I don't normally condone violence _but_..."

Alex bumps my shoulder, "I can always cite it as an extenuating circumstance? I reckon that should be enough to give me a pass." I feel her hand slide over my leg, and it's only after a long meaningful pause when she speaks again, "You wanna hear something?"

"Hmmmm."

"You're a good mom, Piper. You're an amazing mom who kicks so much ass." She bumps my shoulder, "It's kinda hot to watch. And just the fact you're worrying whether you're a good mom or not already sets you ten thousand miles apart from Carol."

My heart flutters in my chest and throat curiously tightens, "You really mean that, huh?"

"Am I allowed to silently swear my truths on Mr Bear's life?" Alex laughs, "Because according to Toby that stuffed thing is more sacred than the bible."

Grinning, I nod my head and was about to lean in for a kiss when the click of the balcony door handle stops halts me in place.

"Mom? Mommy?" Toby joins us, his voice drowsy, eyes sleepy and looking way too cute for his own good.

"Hey sweetie, what's the matter?"

"Mommy, I can't sleep." He shakes his head in dismay and instead holds his hands out for a hug, "I promise I tried but...I think...I think-" He abandons conversation altogether and without waiting for an answer clinches his little arms around my back and buries his face into the crook of my shoulder.

After a minute long hug, he finally lifts his head, "Can I sleep here?"

I nod my head as my gaze briefly dropped to Alex who reads my mind and inclines her head in agreement.

I ruffle his hair, "Okay champ...but only this once, 'kay?"

Toby too must have access to my mind because I've not even finished my words when he claps his hands in delight and races back into the room, practically dive-bombing onto our bed.

Also apparently our kid has zero patience because he soon enough runs back to the balcony and sidles next to Alex, his little fingers skimming her arm, "Can we have ice cream, please please _please?"_

Alex side eyes me, brows furrowed together in mock thought, "What do you think, mommy?"

"Just this once, I think." I turn to Alex, "I may be wrong but I think we've been just been drafted into an impromptu slumber party."

Alex's amused chuckle gets swallowed up Toby's impassioned yells of glee who is now dragging both of us to the bed. Alex and I catch each other's eyes and share a smile.

Alex slides her hand into mine and whispers into my ear, "One step at a time?"

I squeeze her hand back, "One step at a time."

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* * *

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It was already past midnight when I finally park up onto our driveway. My eyes are barely even open, lids heavy with the kind of exhaustion that made any horizontal surface the perfect place to sleep on. I turn the lock and quietly sneak inside. It had been the mid year profit checks at Haven, the time of year I hated the most.

But me being the senior figure and all, somehow inferred I should always be the first and last person to leave the premises. Red and I had been bowled over Haven's finances, discussing ideas on how to expand even further and increase our profit margins.

A task so mind-numbing that by the end of it I was close to tying a noose around my neck. But Red and I had grown into a sort of dream team over the years…not quite on equal terms but more akin to Batman and his sidekick. It doesn't sound like much but it was a tremendous upgrade from the dictator / minion terms we'd initially hailed from.

The house was dark.

The thought of finally laying my head to rest spurred me on to get through the last few steps. I was just headed up the stairs when I noticed Alex's lying form on the sofa, one arm dangling over the upholstery, glasses half askew; she looked a picture of peace. My lips curl into a smile when I realise she had been obviously trying to wait up till I came home.

It's unexpectedly sweet.

"Hey." Alex's voice cuts through the darkness just as I was about to quietly tiptoe to the bedroom.

I bowl round and sit on the edge of the sofa, and bent down for a kiss, "Hey sleepy head, I thought you were asleep. Bed not good enough for you?"

I could hear Alex's humoured exhale, "Tried to stay up…but must have fallen asleep for a little while. You okay?"

"Hmmm. Just tired." I pick up a stray toy off the floor and place it on the kitchen island, "Sorry for waking you, I'll let you go back to sleep."

I lean over for a goodnight kiss and was about to tilt back when Alex grabs my hand and stops me. "Wait no, stay here." Her voice was still half asleep, "There's enough space for your tiny ass to park itself here."

"Tiny ass?" I repeat affronted, already sliding off my coat and kicking my shoes off.

"Hot ass."

The tiredness suddenly catches up with me, and I let out a weary groan, "Okay, I'm still in my work clothes…lemme get changed first."

"Just wear your panties and shirt or whatever." Alex leans on one elbow, and says in an enticing tone, "Come in, look how warm and cosy it is."

I didn't need much convincing and agree all too easily, "Now that's a sales pitch I cannot resist."

To be fair the bed upstairs seems less and less appealing. And in all honesty, Alex could persuade me to jump off a cliff and I would happily take a running leap. Peeling off the last of my clothes, bar my underwear, I climb onto the sofa. It was surprisingly comfortable dare I say it, the warmth of Alex instantly soothing my fatigued muscles.

She shuffled back to allow me more space and wrapped her arms around me, face nestled into the crook of my neck. I let out a content sigh. This was definitely a million times better than our Turkish hand finished super deluxe king size bed.

Alex's fingers gently ran through my hair, before resting on my shoulder, "You smell nice."

"It's eau de fried oil. Do you like it?"

I could feel the breath of her laugh on my neck, "Hmmm, I like it better than the eau de burnt steak from a couple of weeks back." She kissed my nape, "It's a nuanced difference."

The major disadvantage of working in a food establishment is the unfortunate stale food smell that lingered on almost everything I owned and even touched.

I twisted around so that we faced each other - and although I couldn't fully make out Alex's face - I could however, easily sense her smile. Sneaking forwards, I laid a chaste kiss against her lips, my fingers sweeping away a lock of hair away from her forehead. I let them linger for a little longer, the tips trailing soft and warm skin.

I really _really_ liked these rare moments; all quietly tender. Not a lot of words said out loud but instead letting our touches speak their own silent language.

It's a while later when I ask, "How was Toby today?"

"A little rockstar," Alex murmured dreamily, "Did his homework…and wait for this - even brushed his teeth without having to be told at least a dozen times."

"Really?" I narrow my eyes sceptically, "Without any form of incentive or promise?"

"Are you trying to say I can't get him to do anything without offering something in return? C'mon, Pipes."

"Seriously, Al." I smile in the dark, suddenly reminded how Alex was the world's biggest pushover when it came to Toby. I was not the least bit surprised at her ridiculously easy concessions - Toby and I were after all, her Achilles heel. "I'm sorry but our son's room is barely habitable…what with the four hundred stuffed toys inhabiting his room. And you know that is _totally_ your doing."

"What am I supposed to do when gives me that look?" Alex protests, "Y'know the whole pinching of the eyes and tilting of the head thing he does."

I stifle a laugh, "Jesus, that kid has you wrapped around his little finger." I playfully nudge Alex in the side, and shuffled closer, "Alex Atwood, Excelsior wonder woman cannot say no to our son's irresistibly adorable face."

"So you agree it's almost _too_ adorable?"

"I agree, that little pout he does, is disgustingly sweet. But I'm kinda worried you're turning him into a little capitalist."

"Capitalist?" Alex snorted, "Am I supposed to apologise?" She runs a hand over my bare arms, causing a flurry a goosebumps to appear all over, and whispers, "Because I don't…intend on doing so."

I was having slight trouble following my train of thought because those lips were now much too close to my own. Alex continues talking, "Did you know I'm an ardent supporter of capitalism, because it's what brought us together in the first place."

My eyebrows went up, "Please explain."

"Well for starters if my job hadn't relocated me, I wouldn't have been living beside the worst neighbour ever. I mean she was blonde and hot but the attitude…" Her laugh was soft, "And secondly my $250 tip sort of brought her to my apartment…so I'm all for capitalism."

"I'd disagree and say nearly breaking my neck over a pile of trash was what really set the ball rolling."

"Sounds romantic doesn't it?" Alex says huskily, shifting in position, so that our foreheads practically touched. "Can't wait to tell that story when teenage Toby asks us how his parents met."

"Yeah I'm most definitely leaving that job to you."

"That kid is growing at breakneck speed." Alex marvels, "I'm pretty sure half of his clothes from two months ago don't even fit him anymore."

"I genuinely think Toby's a vampire child…that's the only rational explanation."

"Our cute faced vampire child." Alex adds good-naturedly.

The corners of my mouth curved into a smile. These random moments of sentimentality never failed to make me reminisce over the genesis of our relationship. There were still instances that made me stop and marvel how almost surreal it all was.

It wasn't the grand gestures, but the small life moments that made me appreciate what I had the most. Those small unassuming yet intensely satisfying moments that shouldn't be so significant yet left the biggest impact. Kind of like the way the outdoor smelt after a rainstorm or the few minutes before sundown where the colours of the sky were suspended between day and night or the first few seconds of sinking into a warm bath.

We stay silent for a while, the hum of the nearby fridge the only sound. The New York sky was just visible through the half-closed blinds, the distant lights of the city casting a gloomy hue over the room. It was one of those rare cloudless nights that would no doubt give way to a spectacular sunrise come morning.

"You know never in a million years did I expect that drunken night of mine would lead me here." I muse out loud.

"Good job I've got a flair for the persuasive factor."

"Hate to break it to you, Al." I tease, "It was less your talk but more the hot looks that sealed the deal for me."

"Looks over personality? Interesting. Should I be flattered or offended or both?"

"I've always been more of a visual person. You had such a nice butt." My hand slides over Alex's ass, who looks affronted, "Correction: you _have_ such a nice butt."

"Is that so? I thought you said you were more of a boob person?"

I hook my fingers around the band of her pants, my hands meeting warm skin, "Hmmm, maybe I like to alternate between the two. And sometimes I'm both all at once. What can I say, I'm boob / butt fluid."

"So the whole time you were pretending to hate me…you were just admiring my butt?"

"And boobs." I add emphatically. "I can't be blamed, I'm a product of our superficial society."

I was sleepy, my words were beginning to muddle into each other and my head weighed a ton but I didn't miss the brief flash of desire cross Alex's face.

It's absurd - although we were virtually plastered together at our sides, perfectly lined up from shoulder to hip - I still inched closer.

Alex reads my mind and closes the gap altogether. We may as well have been one person.

"You make for a compelling argument, Mrs V-C."

My face stretched into a smile, "Well Mrs V-C, you're in luck because compelling arguments are my forté."

"Is that so?"

"Yup, it's my raison d'être."

"Are you purposely trying to turn me on with that french lingo? Because it's working." Alex chuckled, her hand escaping under my top where it came to rest just beneath the dip of my breastbone. "I would have so ravaged you up, if I wasn't about to practically fall asleep on top of you."

"Spoilsport." I say jokingly, tilting my head down for a kiss. My lips barely touching yet somehow able to feel the curve of Alex's smile, the warmth of her breath familiar against my cheek.

It's lazy and dreamy and we're both on the verge of unconsciousness, the kiss turning into nothing more than a soft collision of noses and mouths. Yet it still..still after all these years invokes a tingling warmth that wraps me whole.

The night lay heavy around us. It's awhile when I murmur out loud, "Hey Al?"

No answer - I crane my neck - the slow rise and fall of her chest told me must have fallen asleep.

I drop back down and stare up to the ceiling, my mind like one of those carousels slowly coming to a stop.

God, I love this butt and boobs wiseacre so much I couldn't contain it it all in my body. Sometimes I thought I'd need several of me, with several hearts just to accommodate even a fraction of it.

The thing about Alex was she was totally there, full throttle committed to this unlikely yet inevitable thing we had. Call it love or whatever - except with us it went somewhere beyond the simple spheres of feeling and emotion- more of an instinctual I'm here for you; all the way, unbridled and unconditionally.

"I love you," I whispered into her ear, and knowing she was asleep, added, "Even though right now you're hoarding all the sofa space and my ass is about to end up on the floor pretty soon. But I still love you, nonetheless, you beautiful asshole."

Smiling to myself, I cradled my head against Alex's chest, and listened to the rhythmic sounds of her breathing. I wasn't even sleepy yet I could feel myself beginning to slowly drift off.

I jerk when I feel a tug into my side.

Alex's eyes weren't even open when she silently mouthed, her breath against my cheek, "I love you too...you beautiful asshole."

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 _AN/ END._

 _Thanks for the read you guys._

 _It's been five years of sharing stories with you all, and have greatly appreciated every single favourite, follow and review but I feel my Alex/Piper writing tenure has come to a natural end. I'm honestly not sure whether I'll ever be in the right mindset to complete my other stories and apologise for that. It's been a heck of a journey and I've enjoyed reading the interactions people have had with the stories, so for that, I thank you._


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